


A Distance My Hand Can't Reach

by writinghomunculus



Category: Haikyuu!!, 君の名は。| Kimi no Na wa. | Your Name.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Swap AU, Chance Meetings, First Meetings, Happy Ending, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Yearning, train stations meetings always feel so etheral, universe imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 18:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15491721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writinghomunculus/pseuds/writinghomunculus
Summary: It ends almost as quickly as it began. Darkness seeps in, tainting him at the edges and he falls. He’s falling, and falling, and falling; he doesn’t cease to drop. Behind closed eyes, he sees a face with star-dusted cheeks and an unfurrowed brow, brown eyes that reflect the depth of the universe. Before Kentarou can call out to him, his tongue is an eclipse that vanishes, never to reappear.There are no memories of falling asleep, no reminiscence of a bed sunk into. Painted on a canvas of twilight, all he remembers is a shooting star; a silent prayer upon his lips.Kyoutani and Yahaba in a rendition of Kimi No Nawa.





	A Distance My Hand Can't Reach

**Author's Note:**

> An-chan, thank you for being such a positive force & a joy to talk to while I was creating this! You mentioned you enjoy body swaps, and while I'm not the best at writing it I hope i was able to give the concept some form through this story. I hope you enjoy this nonetheless; your encouragement and our interactions, no matter how short or sparse, was a big joy for me!  
> 

_the first time._

Waking up, he is greeted by pale blue walls instead of creamed-white, stuck-on stickers of constellations sombre and missing from the wall above his bed. Where cropped blond hair used to sit, there is now a mess of hair blinding his eyes. He’s the same, except he’s not—

Kentarou doesn’t recognise where he is. Frantic eyes searching, there’s no familiarity or warmth. He doesn’t get up, not because he doesn’t want to, but he can’t— body glued to a mattress too big, bones cemented to where he lays. He is an anchor to himself, and as he plunges downward, he continues to drown.

This is not a dream. It is almost a nightmare.

It ends almost as quickly as it began. Darkness seeps in, tainting him at the edges and he falls. He’s falling, and falling, and falling; he doesn’t cease to drop. Behind closed eyes, he sees a face with star-dusted cheeks and an unfurrowed brow, brown eyes that reflect the depth of the universe. Before Kentarou can call out to him, his tongue is an eclipse that vanishes, never to reappear.

There are no memories of falling asleep, no reminiscence of a bed sunk into. Painted on a canvas of twilight, all he remembers is a shooting star; a silent prayer upon his lips.

 

 

_the third time._

This time he doesn’t seem to fall back into the dark.

In this dream, he walks and talks. Getting up from bed is followed by breakfast, then school. Unlike the movies he doesn’t know the answers to questions by his teachers and friends; he doesn’t know this town or the family that awaits him at home.

Written in his textbooks are words of a different person, in a script a universe of difference from his odd-ball chicken-scrawl. He attends the volleyball club instead of astronomy, though the perfect curve of a high-tossed ball reminds him of falling stars.

There’s a violin sitting in a case next to his bed. He doesn’t know how to play instruments.

In this world he is silver-haired, brown-eyed; an aligning constellation he doesn’t recognise.

It feels real, yet when he wakes up, he can’t remember any names. The he from another world is a distant memory, a cosmic shower missed and dismissed, a note hidden in the drawer of his desk.

He is a prayer that Kentarou doesn’t dare speak.

 

 

_the sixth time._

His face may be gentle but his words are not.

They have found a way to communicate, an email written on the inside of one of his school books the secret door to a new world. They send each other a couple of emails every day, and Kentarou begins to learn more about this fiery prince of the universe.

His name is Yahaba. They’re the same age. His residency is in Tokyo, truly different from the world Kentarou is familiar with, a small village in Ogata being where he calls home.

Five hundred and seventy-five kilometres separate them. Five hundred and seventy-five kilometres of land, skies and stars. Still, there are nights Kentarou wakes up looking like Yahaba, living the other’s life amongst shining speckles of light and dust.

Kentarou is but a rock in the ocean, a pebble among many, and yet he wants to be carved, to be tried and tested under the pressure created by the weight of the world. He wants to be part of a meteorite fall; an asteroid that plummets to Earth; a catalyst turning him into a diamond.

Kentarou wakes up with a hunger in his eyes, a flame ignited anew.

Deep down, he is made of stars too.

 

 

_almost time; just a little longer._

There is a tension that wrings itself alive within Kentarou. Every turning corner is a chance, and every corner turned is a missed opportunity.

He walks around Tokyo searching, always searching, for boy moulded with cosmic dust, face kissed by the sun, soul lit up with the light of the universe.

The dreams have long stopped, but Kentarou remains haunted.

 

 

_the first time; again._

Kentarou nearly misses silver hair that shines like stardust.

His figure is two steps away from boarding a train set to leave the city, and Kentarou scrambles to touch the sun. One second too late and he’ll never know. One second too late and they would be two tangents who’ll only meet once, two stars that only align once in their orbit; close, infinitely close, but always too far.

A yearning leaves his lips.

“Shigeru.”

Almost like clockwork, the other stops in his steps. His movements are slow, tentative, almost disbelieving, but when he turns, shock morphs into a his smile that rivals the sun, and his voice is a cosmic force that threatens to bring Kentarou to his knees.

Where their universes join, his voice is soft with a whisper, “You found me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kyouhaba always has my soul. 
> 
> thank you for reading this, every read, kudos & comment means the world ♡


End file.
